on belay
by hyperphonic
Summary: Sitting against the headboard of his bed, she looks almost otherworldly, a mother of immaculate conception with her thin hips swathed in his sheets.
1. Chapter 1

**because:** honestly ginaka is the air i breathe someone send help

 **also:** this is 100% a drabble collection, because i am the trash queen

 **it has come to my attention:** that i didn't make it clear enough these are loosely connected at best, and by no means in chronological order. If there's a certain moment, or a spot in the progression of their relationship that you'd particularly like to see written lemme know and i'll do my best to realize it, but don't try to make these chronological (as I definitely did not).

* * *

Nobuchika had never liked hospitals. There was something in the sterile smell and the too sharp lines of the examination rooms. The doctors too, with their knowing eyes and the dry crack of their lips, so like those of the superiors who shunned him. It set him on edge, swirled his hue with colors so ominous he could hardly bear it.

Which was why he found himself studiously examining the anatomical drawing hung across from him as he waited, dull eyes tracing veins and capillary beds and endlessly circulating blood.

"Phantom pain" the clean cut doctor began as he entered the room, monotone voice perfectly matching the sterile walls, "is a perfectly normal reaction of the nervous system caused by traumatic neuromas located at the site of-" the dark haired inspector-turned-enforcer closed his eyes and let the drone wash over him. His head held too many battlefields, too many fresh tilled graves. He couldn't bear one more piece of clinically packaged bad news.

Prosthetics were, as it turned out, far more difficult to operate than any technological wonder produced by the Sybil System. They weren't flesh, weren't a dominator ingrained so perfectly into the fiber of his being that he didn't even have to think to pull the trigger. They were clunky and cold and impersonal (he understood, now, why his father had never touched him with his metal hand).

Even now, locked away in his containment cell and starved of any witness, Nobuchika found himself reluctant to use his new appendage. Maybe it was the too-fresh memory of his father's steel hand reaching for him, or simply the shame of having to re-learn acts as simple as lifting a cup; but either way the dark man spent his days functioning without it.

It wasn't in his nature to sit by and do nothing, even as his hue checks went from hourly, to daily, to three times a week. The dark man knew that time was passing, knew that his self given mourning period was drawing to a close.

But to break free of such a mindset required more than he had.

It wasn't until his hue checks declined to a weekly schedule, and he slowly began to test the limits of the prosthetic that Nobuchika received his first visitor.

"Ginoza-san", Akane breathes, warm eyes wide and doe-like through the plexiglass between them.

"Tsunemori," he returns, struggling to hide his surprise at her sudden appearance. Seeing right through his pseudo-calm façade, the delicate girl smiles softly, "they only just now let me in, I've been trying to see you since you were admitted-"

She's beautiful, even under the cold, clinical lighting and against the too-white walls. Nobuchika wonders what she's doing here, and hopes she knows how broken he is. "When did you start smoking?" He asks, heart dropping at the sight of the small carton outlined inside her breast pocket. Akane's cheeks flush, and her chin drops, "Not long after Kougami-san left." Ginoza nods, and for a second there is silence as they acknowledge the ghost in the room.

After her first, halting visit, Akane becomes a staple of Nobuchika's otherwise sterile cell. She visits as much as her busy schedule allows, and the latent criminal can't help but treasure his time spent with her. She brings pictures of his dogs, and mentions once in passing that she's taken over care of his plants too.

"For when you come back," she rationalizes one day, smiling brightly at him through the thick plexiglass before taking a sip of her tea. "For when I come back." He echoes, and for the first time since his admittance he feels his heart beat.

Slowly, he begins to master his new arm. Glasses no longer break before they make it to his mouth, and while chopsticks still require more focus than they should, Nobuchika is pleased with himself when Akane brings him Udon and he is able to eat it with relative proficiency. "You're amazing," she smiles, holding her own noodles close to her chest (Nobuchika has to duck his head to hide his smile).

She is there when the doctors finally deem him ready for re-integration into Division 1. Standing proudly at the end of the hallway, her strong shoulders are bathed in sunlight (real sunlight!) and Nobuchika feels his heart beat in his throat as she flashes him a grin. "Welcome back to Division 1, Ginoza-san."


	2. Chapter 2

**because:** i have a soft spot for rainy mornings and soliloquies

* * *

Akane never really thought she was one for love. Never saw herself in the girls on TV, smiling and swooning and sending their hearts away with dashing young men. Instead, she saw her shoulders in the stiff set of men sent off to war, and those brought back broken. It was ok, she'd rationalized, smiling fondly from the sidelines as Yayoi and Shion stole their glances, that wasn't a niche she was meant to fill. But that didn't mean it didn't sting.

Because the crinkle at the corner of her Grandmother's eyes when she spoke of her late husband made Akane's heart clench. And the thought of returning home to her empty bed and bare walls every night got harder and harder with each case and each person they were too late to save.

Other Inspectors, she knew, made a habit of one night stands and the entertainment ward just three blocks down. But the thought of welcoming a stranger into her bed sent chills down Akane's spine (she'd seen too many cased that started just the same). And anyways, it wasn't the lack of physical intimacy that kept her up at night. That wasn't love anyways, it was lust and loneliness, and Akane had no problem admitting her relationship to those two flaws.

"Do you believe in love?" The small Inspector asked one rainy morning as she and Ginoza stood out on the balcony. Her companion inhaled slowly and held it a few seconds before carefully speaking, "I believe in loyalty, and people so important they become something more." Akane nodded, eyes fixed on the building opposite them, their reflection blurred in the window by the rain. "However," Ginoza unexpectedly continued, "I saw the way my father looked at my mother," Akane couldn't help but turn her gaze to the dark Enforcer beside her, "and so even though I've never encountered it, I do think love exists." The small woman nodded, and they fell back into their easy silence, shoulders brushing as the rain continued to slowly soak through their jackets.

She's sure she believes in love. It might not be something she feels in her stomach or the marrow of her bones, but she knows it exists. She saw the fear in Masaoka's eyes as he watched his son slip closer and closer to Sybil's predetermined edge, saw the way Shion watched Yayoi work, and how her father held her mother.

"Shakespeare wrote about love a lot," she muses another day between her and Ginoza on the balcony. This time the sky is clear, and the city comes to life as the sun sets. "Oh?" Her friend replies, looking over with his eyebrows drawn up. "Yeah," Akane confirms, watching the streetlights flicker on one by one beneath them. "Even in his darkest pieces." Ginoza is silent, and she takes that as an invitation to speak, "Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow," her Enforcer leans a little closer as she breathes, eyes still on the gradual crescendo of artificial light. "Creeps in this petty pace from day to day," the sun vanishes beneath the horizon and Akane turns her stare in full to Gino. "To the last syllable of recorded time," he dips his chin and she takes a step closer, their toes bumping as Akane begins the next stanza, "And all our yesterdays have lighted fools," his flesh hand is on her arm, fingers barely curling around her bicep. And before she can begin the next, he is kissing her, lips soft and sure and warm ( _so warm_ ).

Akane still isn't very sure she _believes_ in love. But she's definitely sure she believes in Gino, and the way her heart races when he touches her.


	3. Chapter 3

**well:** i guess here's where i up the rating to M

 **so:** ~sexual fun times~ ahead boys and girls

 **also:** if you've got a prompt you'd like to see written feel free to shoot it to my tumblr: _hyperphonic_

* * *

It all begins innocently enough, Akane perched atop his bathroom counter one night after a particularly nasty case and Gino staring into the mirror at her back. "You're exhausted," she murmurs, reaching one slender hand out to curl around the open collar of his uniform shirt. "I'm fine," Ginoza mumbles, ducking his head but not resisting her gentle tug. "It's okay to not be fine," Akane sighs, pulling him into her arms and weaving long fingers into loose hair. The Enforcer purses his lips, shoulders tensing at his unspoken " _because I have nothing left to lose_ ".

"That's not true," Akane whispers against his ear, breath hot enough to send gooseflesh rippling down his arms. "That's not true at all." (Gino wonders when she became psychic or if he'd maybe accidentally spoken aloud).

They stay together in silence, Akane's shoulder blades pressing against the glass, and Gino slowly melting further and further into her small, welcoming frame. "It was a rough case," he finally gasps, forehead pressing into her neck. "It was," his lover agrees, gently cupping one hand to his cheek and leveling their gazes.

Sirens echo in her ears, and Akane kisses him without preamble.

It's nothing like the first time, and Ginoza loves her for it. In a world like theirs, where the lights in the entertainment ward flicker sickly onto mangles bodies, and girls like Akane hold justice at gunpoint, there is no time for soft kisses and nervous touches. They pull apart and Akane stares, big brown eyes dark beneath the shadow he casts. "Nobuchika," she begins, and before her (soft) lips can form another word said man descends on them again.

"Draw a bath," she manages the next time they break, hearts racing and hands itching to touch. "Yeah," he nods, ineloquent in his haste, and backs away just enough to admire her image before doing as she requested.

* * *

Gino hadn't ever really been one for baths, they took too long, required more space than he usually had and just never seemed justifiable. But now, with Akane shimmying out of her shirt beside his sink, it seemed like the most justified choice in the world. "Hey," he turned at the sound of her voice, hair damp from the rising steam. "Come here," she smiled, and he was wrecked.

Their transition from colleagues to friends had been rocky at best. Gino vividly remembered days spent seething at how lightly she treated her own health, and _months_ spent worrying about his new Superior. In hindsight it all made sense, even then he'd known (though there was no way in hell he'd acknowledged) how much she'd meant to him. It was hard, after all, not to notice someone who was woven in-between your ribs. Or cradled between your arms and your chest, he mused, setting his chin atop Akane's head as they settled into the hot water. Already the stress and tension of the case was lifting off his skin, coerced by the heat of the bath and the slight weight of Akane in his arms.

As if on cue Akane turned, unabashed as she stretched her body out along his own. "I'm going to wash your hair," she began, damp hands coming up to push dark locks back and off his face, "and then you're going to sleep." Gino gave a crooked smile and slid his arms around her waist, fighting the urge to pull her up until he could press inside. "Alright," she smiled at his soft concession, and lifted her chin to kiss him. It started out soft, gentle and warm like her hands against his chest and the soft scent of her shampoo brought out by the steam. But her hands didn't stay put, sliding down beneath the surface of the water, and as they played against his hipbones, she brought herself higher and this time Gino wasted no time in following his impulse and hoisting her up. "My hair is clean enough," he grinned, and Akane only responded by wriggling her ass and sliding back down his torso.

"Are you sure?" Her smirk was devilish as she settled against his length, and then they were kissing again. "Certain," he rumbled, using his metal hand to run the length of her back. "Well, in that case.." Akane mused, trailing off as his lips made contact with the soft peak of one breast. "In that case?" He prompted against her skin, bright eyes sneaking a glance at her flushed face. "I," Akane rocked her hips against his cock, eager for friction, "I don't really see why we're still in the bath then."

Gino grinned, and wasted no time in picking her up and rushing out of the water.


	4. Chapter 4

lbr: i love gino but he would not handle any kind of pregnancy scare well

* * *

"I'm pregnant." She states with no preamble or shame one drizzly November morning. Ginoza freezes and the soft patter of the rain is joined only by his escalating breathing and Akane's heart beating steadily away. Sitting against the headboard of his bed, she looks almost otherworldly, a mother of immaculate conception with her thin hips swathed in his sheets. Ginoza looks down at his mismatched hands handing limply by his sides, distracted from their task by the clear ring of his lover's voice. "Pregnant?" He echoes, vaguely worried that the typhoon of emotions in his chest will rip him open if he breathes too deep. _She must be full of regret_ he thinks, falling back into old, sell depreciating patterns as he clenches his fists, _must know the child she carries will be an outcast from the moment it's born._ "Yeah," his lover confirms from among the sheets, brows knit up and together as she studies him. "I'm only about six weeks along." Ginoza nods, a soft "oh" falling from his lips as he tries to take a step towards the bed (heavy guilt on his shoulders stops him though, _he doesn't deserve to touch he_ r).

He did this to her (the knowledge presses his shoulders down with a force second only to the reach of his father's arm as he died). Asked her to help carry his sins and his shortcomings, and ultimately, now his child. "I'm sorry," the dark Enforcer mumbles from his spot rooted to the carpet, the little phrase feeling horribly inadequate compared to what Akane had said not even two minutes ago. "I'm so sorry," his voice grows a little stronger, and Ginoza can't bring himself to look up at the woman in his bed, the woman he loves so fiercely it makes his whole body ache with the force of it. The rain continues to fall, coating the window and turning the light pouring into his ( _their_ ) room a cool grey; and before Ginoza knows it, it's patter is joined by the rustling of sheets as Akane rises from the bed.

"Why are you apologizing?" She asks, voice just barely loud enough to hear over his heart and the rain. Gino closes his eyes against the sight of her toes just barely touching his own, unable to face her. "Nobuchika" her hand cups his cheek gently, one thumb coming up to caress his cheekbone as she lifts his gaze. "Why?" He swallows, fights the urge to lean into her touch, and says nothing. "Hey," Akane tries again, bringing her other hand up to mirror it's partner. "Look at me." He doesn't ( _can't_ ), and so it comes as a surprise when her lips ghost over his own. "Nobuchika," she breathes against his lips, and this time opens his eyes.

"I love you," she says without preamble or shame, and the dark man all but melts in her arms.

Ginoza wraps his arms around her slight frame, ducking his head to shower kisses across her neck and face. "I'm so sorry," his lips linger against her hammering pulse, "I've condemned you," he moves on to hide his face against her shoulder. "I was so careful, I'm so so sorry," Akane's hands come up to curl against the thin fabric of his sleep shirt and she holds him tightly against her. "You haven't condemned anyone." Her voice shakes with the force of her conviction, and against his will Ginoza is hit with a wave of love. "We both knew the risks," she presses a kiss to the crown of his head. "We both took the chance." He clings tighter still, and she only responds by holding him closer. "I don't regret it at all."

Ginoza looks up, almost afraid to hope as his lover smiles back at him, all soft lines and brown eyes. "Akane," his voice comes out more like a prayer than a name, and though Ginoza has never been a religious man, he finds himself thanking every deity he knows for the woman before him and the little family growing between them.


End file.
